'This is a magical university.'
'Yes, but more occult is what I mean.'
'Keep together, will you?'
'I am together.'
'For if we are united, what can possibly harm us?'
'Well, (1), a great big-'
'Shut up!' The Dean opened the library door. It was warm, and velvety quiet. Occasionally, a book would rustle its pages or clank its chains restlessly. A silvery light was coming from the stairway to the basement. There was also the occasional 'ook'. 'He doesn't sound very upset,' said the Bursar. The wizards crept down the steps. There was no mistaking the door - the light streamed from it. The wizards stepped into the cellar. They stopped breathing. It was on a raised dais in the centre of the floor, with candles all around it. It was Music With Rocks In. A tall dark figure skidded around the corner into Sator Square and, accelerating, pounded through the gateway of Unseen University. It was seen only by Modo the dwarf gardener, as he happily wheeled his manure barrow through the twilight. It had been a good day. Most days were, in his experience. He hadn't heard about the Festival. He hadn't heard about Music With Rocks In. Modo didn't hear about most things, because he wasn't listening. He liked compost. Next to compost he liked roses, because they were something to compost the compost for. He was by nature a contented dwarf, who took in his short stride all the additional problems of gardening in a high magical environment, such as greenfly, whitefly and lurching things with tentacles. Proper lawn maintenance could be a real problem when things from another dimension were allowed to slither over it. Someone pounded across it and disappeared through the doorway of the library. Modo looked at the marks and said, 'Oh, dear.' The wizards started breathing again. 'Oh, my,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. 'Rave In . . .' said the Senior Wrangler. 'Now that's what I call Music With Rocks In,' sighed the Dean. He stepped forward with the rapt expression of a miser in a goldmine. The candlelight glittered off black and silver. There was a lot of both. 'Oh, my,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. It was like some kind of incantation. 'I say, isn't that my nose-hair mirror?' said the Bursar, breaking the spell. 'That's my nose-hair mirror, I'm sure-' Except that while the black was black the silver wasn't really silver. It was whatever mirrors and bits of shiny tin and tinsel and wire the Librarian had been able to scrounge and bend into shape . . . '-it's got the little silver frame . . . why's it on that two-wheeled cart? Two wheels, one after
righteous ass, sir,' said Ponder. 'He says kick some righteous ass.' Ridcully peered at the empty stage. 'I don't see one,' he said. The four members of The Band sat up and stared straight ahead, over the moonlit plain. Finally Cliff broke the silence. 'How much?'
'Best part of five thousand dollars-'
'FIVE THOUSAND DOL-?'
Cliff clamped his huge hand over Glod's mouth. 'Why?' said Cliff, as the dwarf squirmed. 'MMF MMFMMF MMFMMFS?'
'I got a bit confused,' said Asphalt. 'Sorry.'
'We'll never get far enough,' said Cliff. 'You know dat? Not even if we die.'
'I tried to tell you all!' Asphalt moaned. 'Maybe . . . maybe we could take it back?'
'MMF MMF MMF?'
'How can we do dat?'
'MMF MMF MMF?'
'Glod,' said Cliff, in a reasonable tone of voice, 'I'm going to take my hand away. And you're not to shout. Right?'
'Mmf.'
'OK.'
'TAKE IT BACK? FIVE THOUSAND DOL-mmfmmfmmf-'
'I suppose some of dat is ours,' said Cliff, tightening his grip. 'Mmf!'
'I know I haven't had any wages,' said Asphalt. 'Let's get to Quirm,' said Buddy urgently. 'We can take out what's . . . ours and send the rest back to him.' Cliff scratched his chin with his free hand. 'Some of it belongs to Chrysoprase,' said Asphalt. 'Mr Dibbler borrowed some money off'f him to set up the Festival.'
'We won't get away from him,' said Cliff, 'except if we drive all the way to the Rim and chuck ourselves over. And even den, only maybe.'
'We could explain . . . couldn't . . . we?' said Asphalt. A vision of Chrysoprase's gleaming marble head formed in their vision. `Mmf.' No. 'Quirm, then,' said Buddy. Cliff's diamond teeth glittered in the moonlight. 'I thought . . .' he said, 'I thought . . . I heard something on the road back there. Sounded like harness-' The invisible beggars began to wander away from the park. Foul Ole Ron's Smell had stayed on for a while, because it was enjoying the music. And Mr Scrub still hadn't moved. 'We got nearly twenty sausages,' said Arnold Sideways. Coffin Henry coughed a cough with bones in it. 'Buggrem?' said Foul Ole Ron. ' I told 'em, spyin' on me with rays!' Something bounded across the trodden turf towards Mr Scrub, ran up his robe and grabbed either side of his hood with both paws. There was the hollow sound of two skulls meeting. Mr Scrub staggered backwards. SQUEAK! Mr Scrub blinked and sat down suddenly. The beggars stared down at the little figure jumping up and down on the cobbles. Being of an invisible nature themselves, they were naturally good at seeing things unseen by other men or, in the case of Foul Ole Ron, by any known eyeball. 'That's a rat,' said the Duck Man. 'Buggrit,' said Foul Ole Ron. The rat pranced in circles on its hind legs, squeaking loudly. Mr Scrub blinked again . . . And Death stood up.
I HAVE TO GO, he said. SQUEAK! Death strode away, stopped, and came back. He pointed a skeletal finger at the Duck Man. WHY, he said, ARE YOU WALKING AROUND WITH THAT DUCK? 'What duck?' AH. SORRY. 'Listen, how can it go wrong?' said Crash, waving his hands frantically. 'It's got to work. Everyone knows that when you get your big chance because the star is ill or something, then the audience'll go mad for you. It happens every time, right?' Jimbo, Noddy and Scum peered around the curtain at the pandemonium. They nodded uncertainly. Of course things always went well when you had your big chance . . . 'We could do “Anarchy in Ankh-Morpork”,' said Jimbo doubtfully. 'We haven't got that right,' said Noddy. 'Yeah, but there's nothing new about that.'
'I suppose we could give it a try . . . 'Excellent!' said Crash. He raised his guitar defiantly. ' We can do it! For the sake of sex and drugs and Music With Rocks In!' He was aware of their disbelieving stares. 'You never said you'd had any drugs,' said Jimbo accusingly. 'If it comes to that,' said Noddy, 'I don't reckon you've ever had-'
'One out of three ain't bad!' shouted Crash. 'Yes it is, it's only thirty-three per-'
'Shut up!' People were stamping their feet and clapping their hands derisively. Ridcully squinted along his staff. 'There was the Holy St Bobby,' he said. 'I suppose he was a righteous ass, come to think about it.'
'Sorry?' said Ponder. 'He was a donkey,' said Ridcully. 'Hundreds of years ago. Got made a bishop in the Omnian church for carrying some holy man, I believe. Can't get more righteous than that.'